


Dance Dance Avengers

by WriteThroughTheNight



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Dancing, Fluff, Gen, M/M, Team as Family, silliness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-27
Updated: 2015-09-27
Packaged: 2018-04-23 16:22:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4883626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WriteThroughTheNight/pseuds/WriteThroughTheNight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint can't make breakfast without putting on music, and everyone has just a little too much fun</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dance Dance Avengers

**Author's Note:**

> Hello again! This is just a fluffy and ridiculous piece I've had floating around in the cloud for awhile now, which I thought I had already posted. This is thanks to bioluminescent who prompted me with it.
> 
> Seriously, if you're expecting substance this isn't the fic for you. It's just a fluffy mess, taking place in some fantasy verse after the first Avengers movie where everyone lives in the tower and is a big happy family. No beta so all mistakes are mine. Enjoy!

It starts with this: Clint tells Jarvis to play his music on shuffle through the speakers.

Phil sits at the table, dressed for the day minus his suit jacket and shoes, flipping through the newspaper. At the counter, Clint sings along to whatever song comes on, whipping together pancake batter and sashaying to the beat. Phil watches him move, jeans slung low on his hips, chest bare despite the fact that they're in the communal kitchen. 

It's obvious Clint feels his eyes, but he doesn't do anything, too intent on cooking and swaying. Heat curls low in Phil's gut, and he puts the newspaper down.

Pressing the length of his body against Clint's back, he lays his hands on his husband's hips. Clint shakes his ass obligingly. 

With a well placed kiss in the back of his neck, Phil closes his eyes and relaxes to the sound of Clint making them breakfast.

He barely notices the song change until Clint stills under his hands, and asks Jarvis, "Hey, can you turn this one up?"

Phil blinks open his eyes when Clint turns in his arms, holding Phil's hands to his hips. The opening strains of Uma Thurman slip through the speakers, a song Phil quite likes, but the glint in Clint's eye is a little worrying. 

Clint backs them up from the counter, smiling at Phil the entire way. He realizes a little too late what's coming. Clint leans in, breath warming Phil's lips, and mouths "May nothing but death do us part."

Then they're moving, Clint is laughing, and Phil can't bring himself to stop it. 

Clint spins them across the tile, holding tight to Phil and taking him along for the ride.

_She wants to dance like Uma Thurman, and I can't get you out of my head._

It's not a song you tango to, but somehow Phil finds himself sliding across the floor in sock feet, dipping Clint and releasing him for a spin. They're moving fast to keep up with the beat and it's ridiculous, but Phil can't remember the last time he laughed this much.

Clint brings them to a stop, and that unholy glint is back in his eye when he takes hold of Phil's tie. For a moment, Phil considers the wisdom of doing this in the communal kitchen, and then gives in. The subsequent kiss is messy because they're both smiling too much.

 

"Jarvis, is Clint making breakfast?" Natasha asks, hair wet from her shower. She's on her way to kitchen, having just finished her morning workout, and Clint really is a good cook despite the amount of evidence to the contrary. 

"Agent Barton started making breakfast some time ago, yes."

Taking note of the warning, Natasha rolls her eyes. Looks like she'll have to break up another groping session, but if it means she gets pancakes she'll take the dirty looks from Coulson any day.

One step into the kitchen corrects any assumption she may have made. 

Clint and Phil are groping each other, yes, but mostly within the acceptable range designated for dancing. Though the shirtless aspect really does add something. 

Clint pulls some type of complicated spin and dip that belongs to no established form of dance, and Phil goes into it, letting Natasha make note of the tie still around his neck.

They're dancing to some god-awful pop music, too bouncy and ridiculous, one of those songs that plagues the radio for months. Clint loves it way too much.

"Sorry dear, I think someone else wants this next dance." Phil says, disengaging from his husband. Clint clings like an octopus before catching sight of Natasha.

Phil reaches a hand out to her, stoic expression slipping out of place for a wide grin.

"Agent Romanoff, care to show me how your dance skills are holding up?"

Natasha smiles, and yanks her shirt over her head. Clint makes a strangled sound.

"It'd be a pleasure, Agent Coulson. I wouldn't want to be in the improper attire."

Phil laughs, and Natasha laughs with him as he whips her around for a complicated waltz.

 

By the time Bruce walks in, he actually has to stare for a few moments to make sure what he's seeing is real.

In one corner of the kitchen Natasha's in a sports bra, doing ballet around a shirtless Clint, who keeps dropping to the floor to do things that shouldn't be physically possible.

Across from them is Steve and Tony. Tony seems to be teaching Steve how to grind, taking a simple box step and doing something with his hips that has Steve turning bright red and stuttering 'Tony!'

Most unbelievable of all is Coulson, who appears to be up on the kitchen table, wearing a tie, dress pants, socks- one Captain America and the other Hawkeye themed- and nothing else. He's showing something to Thor that looks a lot like the Twist, and Thor is responding with something that must be Asgardian because Bruce has never even seen some of the moves he's pulling off.

The speakers blare Katy Perry, and Bruce has no idea if what he's seeing is actually happening or just a hallucination induced from pulling an all-nighter in the lab. 

Thor turns around- oh look he's shirtless too- and spots Bruce.

"Friend Bruce," He booms. "You must partake in our merry-making! I require a partner to better demonstrate Asgard's style of dance." 

Before Bruce can protest he's being swept up by Thor, spun and dipped until he can't keep his feet.

Despite this, Bruce doesn't push down so much as a hint of green. He grins, and lets Coulson pull him up onto the table to demonstrate what the Twist looks like with another person. Bruce falls into the swing of hips easily, moving around Coulson to Thor's cheers.

His laughter joins that of the rest of the team, and when the song changes he lets Tony pull him down from the table. It's like being in college again, twisting and turning, letting himself get lost in the flow of bodies. 

_Turn down for what_

The dancing in the kitchen turns from vaguely sexual to down right lewd, everyone trying to one up each other. Bruce revels in the look of surprise in Tony's face as he flips instantly to grinding, and Bruce is laughing so hard he might be sick.

This is family, this is home, this is his team.

He wouldn't have it any other way.


End file.
